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Song
つまるところ
たにしげちゃん
·
Dec 2025
·
3:14
vocals Male&Female
Duet
female/male Twin Vocals
airy soulful raspy soft expressive
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English Lyric ↓↓↓
世界が昨日より濃く見えたのは
誰かの言葉が胸の奥に
微かな熱となって差し込んだからか
その揺らぎは静かな光のようだった
形を変えながら私の輪郭を
優しく撫でていった
混ざり合う声は深い影を帯びて
思考をゆるやかに溶かす
どれが私ので どれが他人の思考か
境界は気づかぬうちに
にじみ出していて
感情の底をゆっくり撫でる声が
正しさの形を静かに塗り替えていく
選んだつもりの答えは
いつからか誰かの意思の影で
操られていただけのものなのか
私はまだ“私”のままでいられているのか…？
浴びた言葉の数だけ
世界は彩度を変える
その変化を洗脳と呼ぶのか
はたまた「教育」だと呼ぶのか
判断さえも曖昧なフィルター越しで
私だった確かな輪郭を見失って
重ねられた光の層の奥
本当の色はまだ私の形をしているのか？
触れた価値観の粒子は
静かに私の居場所を侵食し
記憶も景色を書き換えていく
世界に溶けた色のすべてを
集めたところで本当の私にはもう戻れない
胸の奥でわずかに叫ぶ声は
名前をなくした私を
呼び戻そうとしている
その声はノイズにまみれて聞き取れない
私だった確かなモノは失っていく
誰の熱に怯え 誰の影に救われ
私は何を“自分”と呼んでた？
問いだけが鮮明になって
世界より先に
私の方が溶けていく
------
English Lyric
------
The world looked heavier than it did yesterday,
maybe because someone’s words slipped into my chest
as a faint warmth.
That trembling felt like a quiet light.
Shifting its shape, it traced the edges of me
with a gentle touch.
The mingling voices carried deep shadows
and slowly melted my thoughts.
Which part was me,
and which was someone else’s echo?
The boundary had already begun
to bleed without me knowing.
A voice that strokes the bottom of my emotions
quietly repaints what “right” is supposed to be.
The answers I thought I chose—
were they already moved
by someone else’s will?
Am I still “me” at all…?
With every word I absorb,
the world shifts its saturation.
Do we call that change “brainwashing,”
or do we call it “education”?
Even judgment blurs behind
an indistinct filter,
and I lose the clear outline
that once was me.
Deep within the layered light,
does my true color still resemble me?
The particles of values I touched
slowly seep in,
rewriting my memories and the scenery inside.
Even if I gather every color
that melted into the world,
I can no longer return
to who I truly was.
The faint voice crying out in my chest
tries to call back the version of me
that has lost its name.
But drowned in noise,
I can no longer hear it.
The parts that once defined me
slip away.
Whose warmth did I fear,
and whose shadow saved me?
What did I ever call “myself”?
Only the question grows clearer,
and before the world dissolves—
I am the one
who begins to fade first.
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